Call Ups
by corneroffandom
Summary: The aftermath of the NXT 4 debuting on Raw and Smackdown


Ricochet is buzzing, in a good way, after getting wins on both Raw and Smackdown. Partnering with Finn to defeat Lashley and Lio on Monday, and winning in singles action tonight against Eric Young has him feeling pretty good about these moves. He pulls a fresh hoodie on after taking a quick shower and ducks his head, almost overwhelmed by how quickly everything is moving. He hums and reaches out for his phone, not surprised by the flood of texts and messages congratulating him.

He's thankful for each and every one of them, but he realizes there's only one person he really wants to hear from right now, so he dials the number that had only been given to him begrudgingly the last time they'd crossed paths at Madison Square Garden. He listens to it ringing, wondering if maybe he'll have to leave a message, but then the phone clicks, and a groggy, annoyed grunt greets him, realization dawning on him. "Oh shit, I'm sorry!" he exclaims. "I forgot about timezones. Pete-"

Dunne groans. "Shut up, Ricochet. God, it's too early for this. What did you need to talk about so badly?"

Ricochet blows out a breath before shrugging. "I... They decided to call me up to the main roster," he says awkwardly. "I'm at Smackdown right now. I've won both matches- one on Raw, and now tonight. It's... it's ridiculous, man."

Dunne doesn't say anything for a long moment, and Ricochet thinks maybe he's fallen asleep, but then he says, "Well, most of us knew it was just a matter of time before they wanted you on Raw or Smackdown. More abrupt than you expected, maybe, but I'm not surprised."

Ricochet feels his lips twitching up into a grin at this unexpected belief in him, in his abilities. "Thanks, Pete," he says, not too surprised when the man just grunts in response.

"I'm going back to bed. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says, before the phone clicks loudly in Ricochet's ear.

He chuckles and shakes his head, his teeth gleaming as he smiles down at the phone held in his hands, feeling a pleasant kind of warmth despite the abruptness of the call. "Whatever you say, Pete," he murmurs.

**-x**

After their match on Smackdown ends, Ciampa collects Goldy while Johnny gets his NA title, and they walk side by side backstage for a few moments. "I gotta," Ciampa says, his rough voice fading away as he points vaguely off towards the trainer's office and disappears into it when Johnny doesn't say anything. He nods at the people wandering around, exhaling when he's motioned onto a nearby cot.

He leans back and tries not to look as someone approaches him, still clinging to his title belt and trying to ignore the not very subtle tremble in his hands. "Knee and back, right?"

"Yes," Tommaso says, shaking his head when the trainer's assistant tries to take Goldy from him. "The belt stays with me," he tells him tensely, and he leaves it. Tommaso grits his teeth as they make him roll over so they can manipulate his back and make sure nothing's too seriously wrong there. He's just settling back flat on the cot when the door is pushed open and Ciampa swallows hard, finding Johnny standing there, a purposely blank look on his face as he walks over and sits down next to Ciampa's cot.

"Anything yet?"

"No." Tommaso breathes deeply through his nose and tries not to react to his former tag partner's presence by his side. Finally, though, he can't take it anymore. "What are you doing in here, Johnny?"

Johnny stares at him for a long, tense moment. "Following the champ's lead?" he asks with some mockery in his voice. Ciampa scoffs a little and Johnny swallows, watching the trainer approach out of the corner of his eye. "I... wasn't here the last time you learned you were injured because you never _told_ me when things were going wrong, and I just..." He shifts anxiously. "I, uh. I don't want you alone if it, if it's bad again."

Tommaso doesn't say anything, doesn't really get the chance to as the trainer returns and stands by his leg. "I'm going to check your knee now," he says. "Just relax."

Impossible, really, when they're on the cusp of something really impressive- ruling both NXT and the main roster side by side- and Tommaso may have messed it all up with one wrong move. His hand slips from the title and he folds it up next to his head like he's about to dig his fingers into the pillow and hold on with all of his strength when he feels his knee getting manipulated, the trainer checking his kneecap, and lifting his knee, putting it through its paces to try to determine if anything's tore. He's gritting his teeth so hard that Johnny thinks they may crumble to dust so he reaches over without really thinking and tangles his fingers with Tommaso's, squeezing his hand. _This_ pulls Tommaso out of his dark, worried thoughts, and he looks up in surprise, finding Johnny staring down at him with brown eyes, his control over his emotions slipping long enough for Ciampa to see that they mirror his own. "W... why?" Tommaso breathes out and Johnny only squeezes harder.

"I'm doing what I would've done before, if you had just _let_ me," he tells him quietly, looking away when Ciampa's blue eyes become too much for him to stare into any longer, his emotions all over the place. Instead, he watches the trainer continue to work Ciampa's knee around, lifting his leg, bending it, checking its range of mobility.

Finally the man puts it down and sits back with a sigh. Both men stare down at him and he smiles grimly. "I don't feel any tears or anything too concerning, you were lucky. If it swells or you can't put weight on it later, come back and we'll run x-rays just in case. But I think you'll be ok. Ice it and elevate it if you want. Same with your back, ice as needed." He stands up and walks off, leaving the two men alone.

Tommaso closes his eyes and clings to the title belt with one hand, so relieved that he doesn't realize he's also clinging to Johnny's hand with the other until Johnny lightly shifts, sitting back but not letting go of Tommaso's hand. He opens his eyes and stares over at the man, a strange flood of guilt and regret overwhelming him. For a moment, a wild, insane moment, he _almost_ thinks about apologizing.

Johnny, however, interrupts his thought process. "Tell me about it?" he asks softly. "When... when you learned you needed shoulder surgery...?"

So Tommaso does. Stares at the ceiling and relives some of the worst, heart-rending moments of his career, the warmth and stability of Johnny's hand against his the only thing grounding him from the memories that he'd locked away for the last couple of years.

It feels like closure that neither of them had ever entirely gotten up to this point, a way to finally, finally begin to move forward.

**-x**

Dream is fast asleep when he hears a distant, low buzz, and Aleister shuffling nearby. He groans and squints around, watching Aleister stare at his phone, lips parted in awe. "What is it?" he asks groggily.

"I... I don't even know," Aleister breathes out, reading off the email to Dream informing him that he's needed at Raw that afternoon, and his last minute travel information.

Dream sits up sharply. "_What?_" he demands, reaching for his own phone and quickly scrolling through. A frown mars his sleepy expression and he shakes his head. "I didn't get one. What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Aleister says, standing up and walking over to his bag in a daze. He tosses in a few things and then frowns over at Dream. "I... would you come with me? We... can use our miles, whatever, just... I feel like I don't want to face whatever this is alone?"

Dream doesn't respond for a long moment, stubbornly not looking Aleister in the eye. "They apparently don't want me there," he says, arms crossed petulantly across his chest. "So I believe I will pass."

"_I _want you there," Aleister asserts and this time, their eyes meet.

Dream closes his eyes and shakes his head, his shoulders slumping when he opens hid eyes snd stares back at Aleister, visibly struggling with his own frustration and Aleister's request. "Fine," he mumbles, getting to his feet and moving off to get ready for the day... when Aleister stops him, pulling him in close and kissing him.

"Thank you," he says softly, running his fingers gently down Dream's neck before letting him go so they can get ready to leave. After their flight arrives in Louisiana, Dream stays at the hotel while Aleister is at the arena, but it's a comfort to him to know that Dream'll be waiting for him when he returns, and the awareness that Dream is watching motivates Aleister against Elias, leading to a fairly decisive victory.

He shakes the hands of HHH and other higher ups backstage, thanking them, before showering and getting dressed, eager to grab his bag and leave, go see what Dream thought of it all. He blinks when he arrives to find the hotel room dark and quiet, Dream already in bed. He stands over him and frowns, kicking his bag under the bed so they won't trip on it in the middle of the night, and presses a hand to Dream's lower back, not surprised when he stirs and stretches under his fingers. "Hey."

"Hey," he says groggily, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up, squinting when Aleister turns a nearby lamp on low. "Good match tonight."

"Thank you." Aleister sits down in front of him and watches him. Dream is uncharacteristically quiet, and even his clothing seems subdued tonight, no outrageous colors- white pants and a pale purple turtleneck, and nothing. No sunglasses, no headwrap, just... Dream, staring morosely down at his hands as he picks at the bedding. Finally, Aleister reaches out and grips his jaw, making him look at him. "What's wrong?"

Dream shakes his head, trying to get away. "Nothing... Everything's fine."

"Patrick," Aleister says warningly, startled when the fight leaves Dream abruptly.

"I've wanted to be called up for _months,_" he whispers. "It's... everything that I've ever been working towards, you know? And then... they want the best NXT has to offer, and I... I don't even make the list? What's wrong with me? What am I lacking?" Aleister, startled, lets go of Dream's face and Dream grits his teeth, looking up at him on his own now. "You're gonna be a mainstay on the main roster, and you're gonna experience all of this amazing stuff, and you're going to impress _everyone_ while I'm still stuck in NXT, going in circles and getting nowhere, and... I'll barely get to see you anymore, and you... you'll..." He struggles, licking his lips. "You'll realize you don't need me, and you'll..." He shakes his head, detangling himself from the bedding, throat tightening with a sudden rush of sadness. "I can't do this."

He's just stood up and stepped towards the bathroom when Aleister moves, quickly grabbing him and pulling him back against his chest, holding onto him. "You listen to me. You're not lacking anything, but NXT... NXT is going to _need_ you, you're going to be one of the few things still tying it all together, right? I know it's awful, I know you want to make progress towards your goals, but you're so young," he whispers to him. "You have _so_ much time in your career to do all of these amazing things, and you're learning and getting better by the minute, you've already come so far since our match last year. But you need to be patient with yourself, and with the company. It will all come, and you'll be the next one called up, and you'll be relieved that you had this little extra time to just _be_, ok? To be the Dream, and to give all of the people in NXT an Experience before you do it on a much grander stage."

He turns him around and stares into his eyes. "As for us, I will _always_ need you. I will _always _ want you. We will do what many other couples do when they're busy and we will _make it work._ Because there's no other option, I've gotten in too deep with you, with _this_ to give it up _now._ Why do you think I wanted you to come with me tonight?" Dream shrugs, their eyes locked, and Aleister smiles warily. "Because I need you by my side as much as possible. Knowing that you were watching, and getting to come back to you after my match was exactly what I needed to get through all of this happening so suddenly. So please don't think that this will be the end of us. Because it most definitely is not."

"I hope not," Dream mumbles and Aleister sighs.

"I won't _let_ it be," he insists.

Dream closes his eyes, nodding slowly as he leans into Aleister's warmth. "I believe you," he admits with a small, tentative smile. "And I really am happy for you."

"Thank you." Aleister smiles back at him, briskly rubbing his arms. "I love you."

"I love you too," Dream murmurs, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips.


End file.
